


Quail For the Soul

by orphan_account



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Happy Ending, Identity Issues, Insecure Bilbo Baggins, M/M, Mpreg, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-05-25 21:56:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6211732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The company discover the Lonely Mountain in ruin and Bilbo discovers he's a bit more Tookish than he thought. Hobbit Kink Meme Fill</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Thorin..."

The hobbit's hand was shrugged off harshly and though it stung, Bilbo understood that this lover was in pain. After all, he felt a similar pain in his chest when he looked upon the ruined mountain, heaps of stone piled atop the treasure of Erebor. Thinking about how easily and happily Thandruil let them go when he'd caught them in Mirkwood, Bilbo thought maybe the king had encouraged their journey because he wanted Thorin to suffer from the sight of the truth. And what a painful sight it was as Smaug took much of Erebor with him in death, and it would take time to uncover the once majestic castle, to rebuild enough for the dwarrow to return to their ancestral land. Finding the Arkenstone, if it hadn't shattered during the mountain's destruction, would in itself take more than a life time.

" The foul beast's dead!" someone cheered but no one joined in; it became clear that it was Bofur when he added carefully, " Don't this mean we succeeded?"

" I have succeeded only in risking the lives of many for ruins. There is nothing here to offer our people, nothing to claim!"

Bilbo flinched at the enraged bellow, trembling in the evening air though he refused to acknowledge it. He hadn't completely gotten over the cold he developed in Laketown, the original cough and fever transforming into sporadic nausea and pounding headaches. But he had more pressing matters so, he leaned in once again without fear, thinking to offer comfort but the would be king stormed off before he could. In the deafening silence of Erebor, no one was brave one enough to follow...except one determined hobbit.

"What a fool I am, " Thorin hissed as he punched the rubble pile closest to him, " To promise my people a return home, a return to the wealth they once knew...all without thought to the years and tribulations our land may have faced in our absence. "

Bilbo didn't mention the expectations of the people of Laketown as well, since they too had placed hope in a prosperous neighbor returning to them. He settled beside the dwarf, who had collapsed to his knees with his head craning upwards; the carving of Durin, of a warrior whose gaze had been directed towards Dale was indistinguishable from the mountain side.

"But you certainly tried, " Bilbo murmured, " No one else can claim to have worked so hard-"

"And it was all pointless."

There was a long moment of silence before a hand moved to cup the back of Bilbo's neck, " I had hoped to show you the corridors I roamed as a child, perhaps my old princely quarters that likely would have been filled with dust... The kitchens assuredly would have been made yours, the libraries filled with our history..." Thorin started to choke up, falling to his knees, " My home is buried for good. "

There was a long moment of silence as a soft breeze ruffled the hair on Bilbo's head and tickled his ears. He squirmed to get comfortable on the cold ground until finally finding the courage to take his lover's hand...he deposited an acorn into the middle of the larger, calloused palm.

Thorin pulled back, "What's this?"

 " Well, right now it's just an acorn, " Bilbo offered him a wry smile, " But with some good soil, enough water and sunlight, why I expect it to be a mighty oak tree one day. Low branches to climb in, a sturdy trunk to lean against."

Clearing his throat when Thorin just continued to look confused, Bilbo leaned closer as he chose his words carefully " What I mean is, this land, this stone...it's all still yours. Who's to say that with a little work, in time we can't, well..."

Thorin was quiet for a long time as he stared out at the mountain, watching sunlight fade as the day came to a close. Bilbo, head starting to twinge, wanted to apologize for his words now, thinking his lover upset but suddenly a kiss was pressed to his temple and he was prodded into a standing position. There was an ounce of something, maybe excitement in the dwarf king's voice as he tucked the acorn into his dirt stained coat. The dwarf rose, eyes twinkling as he stood before rubble that reached leagues above them.

"Go, rest by the fire. I...I will join you when I can."

Hesitating, Bilbo finally noticed that some of the tension had eased on Thorin's face though it was hard to see with the fading light. Hands gripped his hips and another kiss was bestowed to his lips, leaving him breathless. He wanted to stay but Thorin had already turned his attention elsewhere, signalling a desire to be left alone. Plus, as he turned to go he noted his headache had decided to increase in ferocity. At last, he walked away, hoping as he winced in pain that their leader would be alright. But the hours passed and in his discomfort, he was highly aware that Thorin had yet to return by dark and everyone had settled down around a good sized campfire. The only hobbit of their group had purposely set his bedroll a safe distance away as he had been too nauseous for dinner and worse, his nasty headache continued on with now the addition of occasional stomach cramps. He didn't know which he wanted more, to finally pass out after a tiring day or to have Thorin return, if only to have his warm presence to soothe him. In the end, he got neither; Bilbo groaned when he felt two forms case him in, disturbing him from his almost sleep.

 "Uncle Bilbo, " Kili began cheekily, " Shouldn't you be trying to get Uncle Thorin to rest? Why, you have a duty as his keeper."

" He's not his keeper, brother, but I do agree. I think you may be the only one who can calm him down without being impaled by Orcist. Dwalin says he's throwing rocks around near where the front entrance used to be!"

"No guarantees he won't impale you in some other wa- Ow!"

Fili slapped his brother upside the head with a scowl, " But in all seriousness, we need to figure out what to do now that our quest has been...compromised. I'm concerned for uncle's mental state. By Mahal, what could get be doing, playing around in all that rubble?"

" Maybe making plans to rebuild? We haven't the tools but I wonder if we won't stay until winter? Like Mister Bofur said, technically we did reclaim the mountain and since there's no Smaug-"

"Boys. There is need to yell. " Both princes jumped when the hobbit's raspy voice cut through their discussion, " He's heaving rocks about? Is he shouting? Weeping? Oh dear, let me..."

Kili and Fili both leaned in, suddenly worried but Bilbo had no choice but to sit up rapidly, nearing knocking heads with the two young dwarfs and roll away. He didn't make it far before he started to heave.

"Bilbo!"

Their shouts drew the remaining Company (most seemed to have gone to confront Thorin), Oin taking lead as Bilbo continued and failed to bring up anything but the small sips of water he'd forced down before he'd tried to sleep.

Within the hour he was back to normal, the nausea disappearing though the headache remained full force. Oin had ordered him closer to the fire and had brushed off the hobbit's embarrassment or claim that if he did get sick, it was better the was a safe distance away. The old dwarf simply reiterated a desire to monitor Bilbo but also a worry about not inspecting Thorin (Ori reported that the king had the rest of their company hauling rocks now with only moonlight to guide then). Despite protests, Kili and Fili took it upon themselves to watch the hobbit in Oin's place, checking his temperature every few minutes it seemed.

"I'm fine, really, " he said hoarsely, only to received two unimpressed looks from the only others in camp. Said looks transferred downwards, making him realize he had unconsciously been pressing his palm into his lower abdomen. He blinked. The cramps were few and far between but it did feel tight, he thought, like he was retaining water a bit but he decided not to think much of it. He assured them he wasn't in pain, hands dropping to his sides with an embarrassed flush. Due to the warmth and the soothing chatter of the two, he soon started to doze. He didn't notice the looks as his hand unconsciously made its way back to settle on his belly.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Thorin's eyes looked sad, his face like grim stone as he hovered over a newly woken Bilbo. There was dust in his hair, dirt up to his elbows but the glint of hope, of progress made, was a relief. So the king hadn't gone mad, or at least not in the way they thought.

The company, groaning, had stumbled back to camp with their leader near midnight. They were just as dusty as they talked about how they'd managed to clear a good 8 or 9 feet. Bilbo sat up so he could ask more questions, learn exactly what Thorin's plans were but was surprised when he was gently pushed back down and the other dwarrow waved him off.

Apparently he'd have to save his questions fir morning. Kili mewled as he was shoved away, making space for Thorin to lay down beside Bilbo. Fili opened one eye, gazing at his uncle from across their almost burglar before settling back to sleep.

Thorin rested his chin on Bilbo's shoulder as he spoke in a soft, low voice,

"I've been informed that you are still ill."

" Well, I-I was, but I'm feeling much better."

Bilbo couldn't help but huff when he turned his head just slightly and saw his lover's unimpressed look; apparently that was where Fili and Kili got it. Turning completely so he was facing Thorin's chest (the dwarf had thankfully removed his armor), he jumped at an unexpected grumble from at his back.

"He was spewing like Amad."

Thorin frowned worriedly, " That bad?"

"Reminds me I should bring her something nice as an apology, " Kili suddenly seemed more awake as he responded to Bilbo's confused hum from over Thorin's shoulder, " When Amad was 'pecting me, she got really sick, threw up just about everything."

Thorin nuzzled the hobbit's hair with his bearded chin, frowning at the way he had suddenly stiffened. When Bilbo started to pull away, he had no choice but to lean back in surprise, loosing his grip so the other could stand. Kili and Fili seemed just as confused (what did they do wrong?), especially when Bilbo hurriedly started picking his way towards the edge of camp. Thorin had just scrambled to his feet when Bilbo made it just outside their camp circle. The sounds of retching explained it all and successfully made the three of them wince,

 "Worse than Amad..."

 "Uncle, we're not expecting a little cousin are we?"

 Thorin rolled his eyes at Fili's question before going after Bilbo.

When the heaving atlast stopped, Bilbo assured them he was fine, and after just a bit if fussing, they settled down to sleep once more. The next morning proved only a bit better though Bilbo was barred from lifting rocks bigger than his head (as if he could anyway...) Progress slowed when they came across a shriveled, mummified talon before they were able to work around it. (Perhaps Smaug had been trying to escape?) 35 feet was their total by lunch and, feeling just as ravenous as the rest of the company, Bilbo accepted his rations.

" Hopefully this will stay down, " he muttered, tearing into a slightly bruised apple; he finally raised an eyebrow when Thorin continued to stare at him.

" Your complexion looks better today."

" Why thank you, " Bilbo chewed another bite of apple, " You have cobwebs in your hair, love."

Thorin laughed, wiping a hand over his messy and tangled mane before turning his attention to his own lunch.

Despite complaints of soreness and allergies, they returned to the mountain and worked until dusk. They nearly were caught in a landslide when an overzealous Bifur took a boulder from the bottom of the tallest rubble pile. Dori had immediately hauled Ori back by the waist as rocks tumbled down. Dwalin flew back, hissing when a rock came down on his foot though he barely showed if it continued to pain him. The others side stepped the falling debris with yelps and Bilbo, not really in the line of danger, still ended up on his ass when Kili bumped into him.

The Prince looked sheepish as he helped the hobbit up, then curious, " Sure you're not in pain? You're holding your belly again."

If the landslide didn't cause them to break, Kili's words did. In three strides, Thorin was inspecting Bilbo with a furrowed brow and gentle touches. His hand replaced where Bilbo's had been, calloused palm pressing into the tightness just below his bellybutton.

" Hurts here?"

"No, no. I'm fine," Bilbo was sure he was as red as his prize winning tomatoes," Why, I haven't even been sick once today." Technically, this was true as he had been nauseous, and very close to being sick after lunch but he'd fought through it.

"Knock on wood, " Bofur mumbled and Bombur, looking around quickly, knocked on a dusty oak branch three times.

The company broke out into raucous laughter at Bilbo's scrunched expression and started to head towards camp, Kili and Fili hesitantly bringing up the rear. Thorin and Bilbo were the last to leave, the smaller of them taking to fussing over the other's hair, " Why, I think this leaf may have been here since Beorn hosted us!"

Thorin snorted, nuzzling Bilbo as his hands continued to explore; it was really worrying him, this persistent and changing sickness but his beloved didn't look too unhealthy. Perhaps when Gandalf returned, they could get some advice about not only the destroyed mountain, but their burglar's health.

On Durin's day, nearly 3 weeks after arriving at the mountain, Bilbo starts to contemplate whether he's been eating more than his share. He's sure he hasn't (especially since before he could barely hold anything down and especially since rations aren't exactly filling) and yet his trousers feel a bit...snug. It's nothing extreme, mind you. They're as loose as ever in the legs but at the waist, the hips...its embarrassing enough that he's thankful for the cold weather and excuse it gives him to wear concealing layers. Thankfully, it's usually in the dim light of the evening that Thorin let's his hands wander and never too far considering the lack of privacy. They've reached the milestone of 138 feet of cleared stone and they have also found a supporting wall that may help during the rebuild. It isn't much, when one realizes how far the entrance hall stretched, meaning they hadn't even breached what was the actual mountainous castle, but still. Their hope grew as long as the polished floor beneath their feet as a result of the find. Then, as the weather turned, it was suggested that they move camp to Dale, but they found it just as decimated as the rest. Instead of returning to the plains, the cold winds pushed them into the newest alcove discovered after the removal of blood stained debris.

This is where Gandalf finds them.

" Oh dear, " the wizard uttered as a way to announce himself, nearly tripping when his foot caught on a decent sized hole near the alcove entrance, " What an unexpected sight this is. A tragic sight, I must say. "

"Worry not, Tharkun. While originally dismayed at the sight, we have begun a new quest: unburying and claiming what is ours."

" And Smaug is in fact dead, " cried Ori from Dori's side, " Balin found his rottin' foot."

" My gawd, " Bilbo hissed, looking green as he effectively drew the wizard's attention, " Did we not decide to avoid this topic?"

Bifur let out an angry shout, followed by six carefully punctuated words in Khuzdul; Bofur rolled his eyes as he responded, " Cousin, it were rot and how could we be sure dragon even tastes good?"

Bombur mumbled something about spices as Dwalin and Balin both assured Gandalf that the talon, not really a foot, was indeed several weeks into decay. Which Gandalf appreciated, really, given the graphic comments on smell, texture...

" Good job, set him off again," Kili snapped suddenly, leading Bilbo away from the alcove as he dry heaved behind a pale hand. It was an odd sight so of course Gandalf followed, gesturing for Thorin to stay so he could speak to the burglar alone. He appreciated the king's willingness to listen, thinking that Bilbo had definitely had a positive effect on him if it was suddenly so easy to get him to mnd, if not the whole company given how concerned they looked about the sick hobbit.

"I did not know you had such a weak stomach, or have you taken ill, friend?"

After Kili left them, Bilbo had settled on a small boulder, swallowing several times as he clutched his middle. While slight, Gandalf hadn't seen the hobbit nearly so thick in the waist since he had begun their journey and yet, his limbs and face were just as gaunt as when he left them on the edge of Mirkwood.

" Indeed," the hobbit spoke hoarsely as he oddly enough began to scuff his feet against the compact earth, digging a small hole without much notice of his odd actions, " We had suspected my cold from Laketown lingered but- This...this is a funny illness."

"Oh, " Gandalf began gently though he already had his suspicions, " What has made it funny, persay?"

Bilbo blushed shamefully, " It's really nothing to worry about, I assure you. My only affliction now is the possibility of spending winter with thirteen fussy dwarrows and more rocks then one would ever wish in a life time."

"Ah, I'm sure they mean well, " Gandalf paused before finally deciding he would talk about the idiocy of staying on the Lonely Mountain for winter in a moment, "Perhaps you can humor me a bit. " The grey haired man smiled indulging when Bilbo remained silent at first, "You have experienced a weak stomach despite your kind's resilience to such illnesses...nesting instincts, I would suspect with all these blasted holes. And may I say, you seem to be getting quite plump in the middle-"

"Now you listen here, Gandalf, if you're implying-"

" Oh, Bilbo, you stubborn thing! Don't tell me you've been in denial for three months, now."

The hobbit was paling by the second, hand having retreated to his sides to grip the boulder below him. He cast one look at the alcove, the glow of the fire and shadows of his dwarrows companions frightening him for the first time since he signed that blasted contract. Gulping, he began to shake his head in terror as he calculated the time since he and Thorin reunited on the carrock...he took a moment to remember how to breath, slapping his cheeks and wiggling his nose as he struggled for composure. Gandalf like always, just watched him in amusement.

" No. Nope, I'm afraid your conclusions are quite... impossible, wizard. Why, as a-a very male hobbit, a Baggins mind you-"

" But part Took."

Bilbo argued in frustration, " But still a Baggins-"

"Just as much as you are a Took, which means it is possible-"

"No-"

"-that you and the king under the mountain, or rubble more accurately put-"

Bilbo grit his teeth as he eyed the alcove; could they hear them from here? Oh dear, a shadowy figure had appeared near the entrance to observe them," Nononono-"

"-are expecting!"

There was a long pause, a pregnant pause if Gandalf could describe it where Bilbo looked heartbroken and frightened and so many things. It was painful to see especially when a wavering hoarse response was finally composed, " I-I need to get back to the Shire as soon as possible. Maybe there's still time to fix this... Gandalf old friend, h-he can't know about this. What I am, what I may have done!"

" What you've done? Why, I doubt it was planned-"

" He didn't know it was a possibility. It's a well kept secret about Tooks, " Bilbo hissed because even among Tooks it wasn't exactly a positive; still, he had no choice but to return home where he atleast could hide away in his smial until, well... likely became even more of a pariah but it was likely the dwarves would find him just as odd and want him gone aswell, " And with the mountain the way it is, I-I, we need, immediately leave-"

"No, my dear fellow, " Gandalf said as gently as he could, waiting for Bilbo to remember to breathe, " What you need to do is speak with the dwarf who cares for you like no other, and let him decide how he feels."

Bilbo paused at that because...Thorin did deserve to know. He knew how important children were to dwarrow and even if things were unexpected, undignified...Maybe they would let him stay just until the babe was born, then send him out? Because he doubted that for as much as Thorin may forgive him, that a half dwarf, half hobbit would be accepted by the others. But perhaps he was getting ahead of himself, thinking of the company and the entirty of the dwarven race, and their reaction because first and foremost, Gandalf was right that he should maybe mention it to Thorin. But how would he explain this, his undignified Tookishness that he had tried so hard to suppress to his lover? At last, he wheezed, " But I can't. "

" If you can face three trolls, a stone giant battle, a mountain of goblins, and the decay of Mirkwood, I am certain you can do this."

Gandalf gave him a gentle push towards the alcove but the hobbit shook his head, legs stiff and his face set in a stubborn frown. But the wizard did not stop pushing, both the issue and his small friend. With one last nudge, Bilbo was propelled forward, his feet working swiftly to keep him from rolling instead of stumbling down the slight hill to Thorin. He likely emerged when he heard the two of them shouting; Bilbo wondered with unease what Thorin had heard, given his displeased expression. Casting one look back at the meddling wizard, he neared just enough to place a hand on Thorin's shoulder. He was shrugged off.

" You wish to leave me, after being the one to encourage the restoration of my home. After giving me strength you wish to just run off with the wizard, " the dwarf huffed in frustration and heartbreak, surprising Bilbo with his words.

"No, no. It's not like that at all! Winter is coming, love and I can't... Do you not think we could head to the Blue Mountains, recruit for Spring once they have learned of Smaug's demise? " Rattled by the topic veering away from what he had been about to announce, it took him a moment to compose himself again. In the end, he spoke from his heart though it was nerve wracking to do so when he feared that Thorin would look at him with disgust once he knew; as if to shield his child from the negative reaction to come, he folded his thin arms across his belly, " Love, as much as I want to go home to my armchair, it's only if you are to come with me. We...cannot we not return in the spring?"

Thorin turned to him, eyes narrowed, " What of the Mirkwood traitors? Or others who wish to take Erebor while she is weakest? We will be fine. We can send some of the company to the Blue mountains as soon as the frost leaves. For now, the brothers Ri will soon venture to the Iron Hills to resupply and gather the necessary equipment."

"What if- " Bilbo began carefully and thoughtfully, " Instead of asking for tools and help digging, could we not stay with your cousin, then, and keep an eye on the mountain from there until-" Bilbo cut off sharply; Thorin didn't inquire as to what the hobbit had been about to say. Instead, the argument carried on but at least Thorin no longer thought he was trying to abandon him, if the change in his visage counted.

" We have some months until winter truly arrives. Perhaps, if a impasse arises or the snow truly deters us...we could move to the Iron Hills, " the king looked pleading, " You have braved worse at my side thus far. Will you not endure with me a bit longer? "

Bilbo struggled to get the words out, " Thorin, I'm not sure if I-"

"Would you truly risk your child being born in a snowbank, Thorin Oakenshield?"

They both startled at the yell, turning to see Gandalf leaning on his staff with smugness, closer to them than before. Desperate, Bilbo gripped the sleeve of his stunned lover, breath coming out in nervous puffs. This was all happening to fast and he hadn't even been able to explain about the oddness of Tooks! What would Thorin say? What was he going to do? Thousands of scenarios flashed through Bilbo's head, of anger and disappointment, confusion and disgust... But when Thorin turned to look at him, Bilbo realized he never anticipated this.

" A child?" Thorin's eyes were filled with not disgust...but hope.


	3. Chapter 3

"Ay, peppermint'd do the trick."

Bilbo swallowed the gulp of tea, ears perking as Gloin addressed him from his place beside the fire. They had been guided to a wide parlor so their rooms could be prepared, and also so Balin and Thorin could discuss the restoration plan for Erebor with Dain. (Thorin still refused to waste time and wanted to see if their digging and hauling could continue while Bilbo rested up in the Iron Hills.

" Shoulda recognized morning sickness, given my Gimli was a terror in the womb! My wife, sick as a dog she was, but only in the first few months."

The hobbit nodded, squirming at the mention of his...condition; Thorin had been over the moon, and the company just as excited when the king hollered out the news as soon as they entered the alcove despite Bilbo's protests. Even Dain, when they were introduced (why Thorin thought it was cute to announce that his lover was expecting as a way of greeting his cousin, Bilbo did not understand or appreciate) was delighted about the birth of a dwarf (or half dwarf) in the Iron Hills given the last one had been born nearly forty years before. They had been received well and, though it was better than living at the bottom of the Lonely Mountain like a pack of animals, Bilbo was starting to regret not hightailing it to the Shire when he had the chance.

Oin had insisted on poking and prodding him, mentioning a rabbit test that could confirm that Bilbo was expecting but Bilbo refused it when Fili started talking excitedly about building a trap to bring in a hare. In the end, the healer seemed satisfied with the diagnosis, and recommended not only that the kitchens bring peppermint tea but protein. At that, Kili broke out in tears, apologizing for eating Bilbo's rations when his nausea was too much for him. Awkwardly, the hobbit tried to comfort him but gave up when he heard Bifur and Bofur in a heated argument about whether the "Royal dwobbit" would be a boy or girl. He couldn't get any peace, he realized when Nori approached with the comment,

" Well, Thorin seems to be lucky, impregnating a hobbit. Reckon you won't act crazy like expecting dwarrowdams I've met."

"Ay, it's the hormones. Why, when amad was expecting Ori-" Dori and Nori both winced.

Absent mindedly fiddling with the waist of his coat which luckily concealed him from the nearly constant looks, Bilbo wondered if he would become an emotional wreck given his symptoms seemed to be very dwarven. Hobbits didn't experience nausea during pregnancy that he knew of and he suspected his belly was larger than it would have been, if he was expecting a fauntling...Groaning, he closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair he'd claimed as his own, only opening his eyes when the concerned whispers of the company grew to be too much.

"Can they not see the lad's exhausted? To treat one carrying this way... " Oin looked so disgusted and it stung; Bilbo knew he should be grateful that they were all looking out for him and taking the news so well, given the unusualness of his condition but...He swallowed hard, trying to contain his anger which was mostly directed at himself. Yes, he had always wanted children, in whatever way Yavanna saw fit to deliver them but he had never even entertained the idea that he'd bear them. His father, though he loved Belladonna, had always commented negatively on Tookishness and worked hard to raise Bilbo to be a respectable Baggins worthy of Bag End. And Bilbo had ruined all that, had spat in the face of his father's hard work. And while Thorin seemed happy now, what if something went wrong? On top of the rarity of male bearers, no one had been aware that hobbits and dwarrow could produce young! What would their child be like? A demented mix? Would they be normal or-

Bilbo tasted blood, having bit his lip while in thought; their joy and concern rubbed him the wrong way, seeming to remind him of not only the uncertainty of his future, but the very wrongness of his condition.

"Finally!" Dwalin exclaimed as an unfamiliar dwarf entered the room, gruffly offering to lead them to their chambers. The company clambered to their feet, Fili and Kili shoving Bilbo into a standing position and then frog marching him to his room.

"The princes will be next door and a guard will be posted, halfling. " the dwarf guiding them explained as his eyes remained pinned on Bilbo's belly, and upon entering the room, Bilbo noticed that his and Thorin's packs were there; so they wouldn't all be in separate rooms. For some reason that reassured him and frightened him; he wanted some peace and time to himself but another part of him, mostly due to hormones, made him crave the attention of kin. But given how much their attention bothered him...he nodded and then shook his head when Kili and Fili moved to stay.

"You best settle in to your own chambers, boys. I...I am in need of a lie down and Thorin will be back soon enough."

Kili looked hurt, " We can be quiet. We won't bother you while you sleep. Why, we can curl up with-"

Fili nudged his brother, eyeing Bilbo carefully before saying slowly, " We understand. Do get some rest, Uncle. And if you need us, don't hesitate to visit us."

Kili looked confused, like he may argue but the two princes left easy enough with the dwarf escort in tow. When the door shut, Bilbo felt himself deflate and like the new weight on his shoulders was suddenly heavier. But he pushed on, like any Baggins would do. After all, while understandable, a freak out was not respectable, he told himself as he unpacked, washed and changed clothes, and eventually settled down on the left side of the bed with shaky breaths. Still, he wasn't made of stone he realized when he couldn't suppress the weak "don't" when he woke to Thorin curling up against his back and wrapping his arms around Bilbo's expanding middle. He did, however, manage to hide the sharp disappointment he felt when the king pulled away slowly but completely.

\---

With rationing over, Bilbo had expected to be excited about breakfast but when he was handed a plate composed of only meat he was a little worried. He was aware that dwarrow did not gorge on salads but he expected some form of fruit or at least carb. Instead, just meat and ah, meat gravy. Raising an eyebrow, Thorin just continued to look pleased as he rested a hand on the hobbit's knee (the company had thankfully learned not to touch his middle when earlier Bilbo had tripped in his haste to escape Dori's good morning pat),

"Dain has ordered that a variety be served to you, to keep your energy up. Venison, boar, with the common poultry and beef. "

"This is...a normal diet for a dwarf who is," Bilbo couldn't bring himself to say it but Thorin nodded in understanding, surprisingly Bombur piping up from across the table, " Protein is the most important thing. The iron makes a babe grow strong. And I've heard that if eaten often, quail results in dwarflings with plenty of hair at birth."

Thorin looked interested in this, " Hair growth you say?"

"Ay, I heard that. My wife when she was expecting Gimli-"

Bilbo interrupted with a scowl, face undoubtedly red, " I'm afraid hobbits are a little different-"

This seemed to draw the attention of the whole table, everyone looking curious about hobbits; Bilbo cleared his throat, poking at his plate just to avoid looking at them all but never taking a bite, " We eat a variety of vegetables and fruits, mushrooms and healthy carbs too. In fact, we rarely eat meat in such quantities. And while I am sure the hair growth help may be necessary in this case given that hobbits do not grow facial hair, well-"

"Green stuff can't be healthy." Ori said with an wrinkled noise, several of the others agreeing.

"Laddie, you've got a dwarf babe in your belly, " Oin began bluntly, making Bilbo grit his teeth in shame, " I reckon you won't be able to stomach the greenery yer used to. Yer symptoms are largely dwarrowdam, not halfling, yes? Protein will be good for ya, then."

Bilbo didn't say anything else as he picked at his plate, his silence eventually encouraging them to change the subject.

\---

He was so tempted to put on the ring, oh so very tempted as he nestled himself between the wall and the bed in his and Thorin's chambers. His breathing was still a little fast but it was slowing, had slowed the second he'd slammed the door behind him after fleeing from the invasive, block headed dwarrow he called friends and kin. Nausea churned in his guts and the food he'd managed at lunch threatened to come up but a little rubbing seemed to help. But when he realized what he was doing, he jerked his hands back to his sides and avoided looking at his abdomen. It was foolish, as he would only grow from here on but somehow the idea of looking at his mound of a stomach seemed like it would only send him into hysterics.

I can't do this, he thought pathetically, I can't accept this.

But he had to. What other choice did he have, but to accept that he was no longer respectable, was no longer male, was no longer a Baggins- a sob escaped him, loud and sharp in the silence. He was a freak, a blight on his heritage. Why had he even left the Shire, when he knew it would just lead him into more and more Tookish situations. He doubted even his mother, bless her heart, would be able to call his behavior appropriate since visiting Rivendell to strengthen relations with the elves on behalf of her father, the Thain, was very different from journeying across Middle Earth on a whim, falling in love with an insufferable king, and bearing his child.

He let himself cry for some time before finally, eyes still red but much more composed, he made his way to the dining hall for dinner. Though the company seemed concerned and strangely subdued as if he were a grenade, the evening was luckily uneventful. The same could be said for the rest of the first week in the Iron Hills, as he took to hiding in his and Thorin's empty chambers (the parlor if Thorin happened to be in their chambers) until one of the company came to remind him to eat or invite him to something. They always looked so concerned but he had stopped feeling so guilty when he noticed that often their eyes stayed on his stomach, instead of his face.

Now he usually ignored them, relieved when they left him alone but as the weeks passed, he should have known that would change soon.

Bilbo drops the teacup he's holding when he feels it, it breaking clean in half as his hands fly to his middle. He'd been escorted out of his chambers earlier (no butts, no coconuts, Uncle Bilbo!), enduring the good humored comments about being a shut in and about how plump he was getting from the princes with a grimace. Thorin, who likely ordered for him to be brought to the parlor room for tea and biscuits, is on his feet in an instant, and Kili and Fili are running off in search of Oin. Bilbo wants to tell them its nothing, that he's just overreacting but the sensation doesn't stop, the nudging in his guts. He is frozen in place as Balin looks on with a mixed expression, most of the others having returned with Dain's group of volunteers to the Lonely Mountain to heave as much stone before the first snow. It was due anytime now, two weeks having passed since they'd been received by Thorin's cousin.

When hands reach for him, Bilbo jumps back and then it's fight or flight instinct.

He's running, ignoring the shouts as he shoves open the heavy door and charges down the hall. He doesn't remember putting on the ring but when he rushes passed a harried looking Oin and the equally upset princes, they don't seem to see him as they continue on their way until a sprinting Thorin intercepts them in the hall. Bilbo can hear his lover shouting but the words don't compute; all he knows is that he has to keep running.

He does just that.


	4. Chapter 4

Gandalf would have called him a fool if he was present, though the meddling wizard had left them as soon as he saw them safely delivered into Dain's capable hands.

I am a fool, Bilbo thinks tiredly, listening to the buzzing silence. He's not sure where he is, just that the corridors aren't as lit as the ones he's usually in and the air is dusty from disuse. His tailbone aches from sitting on the cold stone floor and finally, his child has settled down though the running had ensured that they had remained active for some time. This had not been good for calming Bilbo down but now that he was more clear headed, he couldn't deny that he was a little pleased. His child was alive and seemed normal if active, like they could be born looking like one of his little cousins, wiggling and squalling. And yet it still scared him, everything about this.

Just yesterday morning, when he'd woken and started getting dressed, he'd silently cried for a good twenty minutes when he couldn't get his weskit on. It seemed the farther into this he came, the more crazy he felt; maybe he really was like a dwarrowdam, which made him wonder how capable he, a Tookish hobbit, was of carrying, birthing and raising a dwarfling that would be bigger, would be stronger, and would be aging differently from him.

Tears prick his eyes, and goodness, he was so tired of crying! He forces himself to stand, shivering and placing a hand at his lower back when it twinges. He doesn't have to look down to know his belly now shields his feet from view (a feat in itself) and it scares him. Sniffling, a sound that echoes in the empty hall, he dares to brush a hand down his front, over the straining buttons of his shirt that fits a bit better after he tugs it back to a respectable position. Combing his hair and dusting off his trousers, he slips the ring back on as he makes his way back the way he came, if he remembers correctly. It takes some time to reach familiar corridors, which are accompanied by frantic dwarfs nearly running him over and shouts, Thorin's, as he nears their chambers. He pockets the ring there, takes a moment to steady himself, and enters.

Thorin is mid step in what looks to be nervous pacing and both Dain and Balin whirl around to face him with frowns, then relief.

"Bilbo-"

He's enveloped in a tight hug and whatever he had planned to say, apologies and excuses, they disappear and those stupid tears make an appearance once again. The hobbit sniffles and inhales shakily into an alarmed king's chest, clutching him as the other two occupants of the room share sorrowful but understanding looks as they let themselves out. Bilbo doesn't dare show his face even when the door shuts and Thorin begins to steer him towards the bed. When he's being made to sit, he protests, clings tighter which earns him several reassuring hums and nuzzles. It seems to be forever before he's back to normal.

"You do not need to see Oin?" Thorin asks, to which Bilbo shakes his head no," You...are alright?"

This does not garner as fast of an answer. Bilbo wants to say he is, wants to brush off his little runaway episode and the crying, like any Baggins would who had an ounce of dignity in him but...but perhaps its time to accept that he is a little more Tookish than his father wanted. At four months pregnant (two months to go for any hobbit pregnancy and disturbingly enough eight if he carried a full dwarf), he supposed it was to be expected so he shook his head no once again.

"My treasured One, please. Tell me what has you so upset."

"I'm not suppose to be this, " Bilbo whispers, " My father- You see, male bearers are not regarded well amongst hobbits, as they only exist within one clan, the oddest of all clans."

Thorin looked concerned, " Has someone here been harassing you? "

"No, no. No one has given me grief here except...me. I'm having a hard time accepting that I am...odd, and not as respectable as I thought. And I suppose, I'm worried about what will come of a dwarf and a hobbit. I certainly seem to be experiencing plenty of dwarven symptoms, along with some disconcerting urges but-"

"Urges?"

Bilbo looks down in shame, " Odd cravings. But what I mean to say is-"

"Whatever they are, I will have them brought to you, " Thorin assured him, pressing a hand to Bilbo's belly before retreating when his lover flinched, " Are they for green things? Vegetables? Mushrooms?"

"No, no. Odder things-"

"Fruits? Rare dishes perhaps? The Iron Hills have many trade partners, I'm sure we can provide for you, " Thorin said eagerly and finally Bilbo couldn't take it for could his lover stop being so sincere, so happy about everything when Bilbo felt like his world was crumbling down?!

"No, I've been craving, " Bilbo yelled, cursed really, " I've been craving dirt!"

Bilbo wanted to kick himself for admitting it but to his surprise, Thorin didn't look stunned or upset; instead he looked almost teary eyes, " You have been experiencing a calling to consume earth? Stone as well?" Before the smaller of them could answer, the king's hands were back on his stomach, " There is an old tale about this craving, that it means the child will have a great stone sense and be as strong and durable as stone itself. By Mahal, we have been blessed."

Confused at first, Bilbo actually felt his turmoil less just a tad and to his own surprise, Thorin's soothing hands actually coaxed him into relaxing; while Bilbo refused to actually consume what he was craving if that turned out to be a dwarf thing, he felt a little better knowing he was somewhat normal and that Thorin did not feel disgusted but proud. Still, Bilbo could not stand his love's touch for long and started to pull away; for the first time, Thorin did not allow him to retreat so easily.

Thorin sighed tiredly, " Dwarrow do not care in what way children come to us, as they are so rare. We believe bearers are all respectable and as for what our child will be, I have no doubt about that. They will be strong, stubborn, clever, compassionate, and everything Erebor needs to prosper."

"So just like you?"

"Just like you, my love, " Thorin shot back with a grin, earning him a disbelieving chuckle.

\---

"Ow."

Thorin looks up sharply, " Ow?"

"Oh dear, " Bofur says but luckily Oin is already in the room, meaning he's up and blinking after a nudge from Bifur wakes him from his nap.

"Hold on, " Bilbo says with a wince, clutching his large belly that seems to be impossibly big on his slight frame; he had commissioned maternity clothing and tunics in the hopes it wouldn't be so apparent but there was no denying he was with child after going three months over what was typically a hobbit pregnancy. The looks, the fondling from strangers, the fussing of the company which had gotten steadily worse until using his ring or hiding away was no longer an option...he had had no choice but to get used to it all, though he was thankful when Thorin allowed the two of them to retreat to their rooms when he noticed Bilbo getting overwhelmed. And overwhelmed he certainly was. Last week, he'd actually made threats about cutting their child out with sting (his sword had gone missing after that) but, he no longer had to worry about that, " Actually, no. Ow, I-I think my water broke."

"Water?" Ori squeaked as Oin began scrambling for his medical bag.

"It's too early!" Dwalin cried in uncharacteristic fear, " Lads got three months!"

"Well, they want out now, " Bilbo snapped as he tried to sit up from his damp chair, " Oh Eru, this hurts. Why did I ever let you talk me into, " he groaned long and gasping, glaring at Thorin with pain filled eyes, " that night on the carrock?"

Thorin actually squirmed at the reproach as Bombur chuckled behind a hand and Gloin out right cackled; they'd already shared their horror stories of having their wrists and/or faces broken by their wives for daring to show their faces in the birthing room. To be honest, Bilbo wouldn't have minded sending pain Thorin's way if he didn't know he'd just end up breaking his own wrist on the dwarven king's face. Trudging back to his room with damp trousers and pain rippling through his protruding abdomen wasn't easy but later he did realize a few things. He was of course gawked at by guards and servants as he and his entourage shuffled down the hall, the news passing swiftly that the royal dwobbit was on it's way but Bilbo wasn't really in the right mindset to feel ashamed. And he certainly didn't curb his tongue or let any ignorant comments bring him down when one of Dain's healers joined Oin in their chambers. Really, it was understandable that respectability and dignity did not have anything to do with labor pains. Laying in their bed, leaning against the stone wall at the head of their bed as he panted, he didn't bother to be composed.

"Don't touch me, " he said flatly while at the same time grabbing hold of Thorin's retreating hand, " D-don't leave, though. "

Oin chuckled as he set a bowl of warm water down on the nearest table, his assistant Barok, dumping an armful of towels into the nearest arm chair. Thorin just smiled at him, and Bilbo vaguely notes the king's hand shaking in his.

"Don't understand the loss of bladder control, " Barok said gruffly, " But this early into labor, 'suspect we're prepping for nothing."

Bilbo grit his teeth before answering, " It's fluid, that comes ow-o-out when the birth canal is open."

"But its a dwarf, not a hobbit. Labor lasts for days, as long as week in some-"

Bilbo let out a low groan as he bared down, eyes shut as he squeezed Thorin's hand for all he was worth. He might have felt the smallest bit of smugness when Barok let out a high pitched squawk and Oin exclaimed that he could already see the head crowning.

In the end, he's not quite as petulant, more dizzy, cold and pale when he sees his son, Frorin Dongo (Frodo as he would later be called by his cousins and many uncles) for the first time. He simply winces as stitches are mentioned and applied and he's thankful that his lower half has been numbed by this point. Before he can voice his impatience, still slightly breathles, a large, healthy babe is placed on his chest, all thick, mucus covered limbs and a red, screaming face. The full head of black hair is shocking as are the slightly pointed ears when the newborn's feet are obviously too small and bare to be a hobbit's. But who knew what traits would make themselves known in the next few years, Bilbo thought; he was just happy to count ten fingers, ten toes, two blue eyes, a very Durin nose, and his mother's mouth. For once, he doubted his father would be disappointed in the least, and just like that the weight on his shoulders lifted. He smiled, looking to his left as Frodo's cries softened to mewls. Awe glistened in Thorin's eyes as Bilbo beckoned him closer, ending up with all three of them on the bed as Oin and Barok worked to tidy up.

"Guess the quail worked, " Bilbo muttered sleepily, caressing the gooey black locks.

Thorin laughed, until he cried.

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. Slight deviation from the prompt since I lost the link to it. ;_;


End file.
